


Firsts

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Chelsea, Fluff, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winning their first Champions League with each other makes Juan and Fernando remember a lot of other firsts in their relationship. Their first sexual experience is mentioned, but not in much detail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know or own any of these people. This is all fiction - totally untrue.  
> I hope you all enjoy the story. Let me know what you think of it! xx

Kissing the Champions League cup seemed to be the only socially acceptable thing to do when you were lucky enough to get your hands on it. After Chelsea had beaten Bayern Munich, the captain and Vice Captain were the first to get their hands, and lips, on the large trophy. From there, it was passed around the entire squad.

After it had gone through the likes of Branislav Ivanovic, Petr Cech, David Luiz, and even Bosingwa, the two Spaniard best friends finally got their hands on it. Torres had one side while Mata held tight to the other, stretching his small arm as high as it would go to raise the cup with his best friend.

“I guess we’d better kiss it,” Fernando said, in Spanish, grinning at Juan.

Fernando and Juan lowered the trophy and planted their lips on either side. Most guys, including the captains, closed their eyes or looked at the cup. The two Spaniards, however, stared lovingly at one another. They had been best friends and lovers for such a very long time. They were overjoyed to be lifting their first Champions League cup together.

As they stared at each other and thought how wonderful it was to be lifting their first cup together, Fernando and Juan’s minds drifted to other firsts in their relationship.

_Juan was just seventeen when he met Fernando, small for his age, always. He felt inadequate compared to the tall, beautiful striker walking toward him on the pitch where the Spanish under-18 team was meeting up though it was months before they would actually play together. Fernando was twenty-two. What was he doing here? It didn’t matter. Juan had seen him before, but never had the pleasure of actually meeting him._

_“Hola,” Fernando said, smiling down at Juan._

_One word. How could one word sound so beautiful? How could one word, uttered from perfect lips formed into a perfect sweet smile cause you to fall in love?_

_Juan had no idea, but that’s what it did. He fell in love with Fernando instantly that day. He never wanted to be without that smile again._

Fernando smiled with his lips pressed against the cut as he stared into Juan’s beautiful eyes, the eyes that so contrasted his. They were lightly and sparkling while his were dark, so dark they were almost black.

_Fernando had fallen in love with Juan the first time they were alone. The Spanish striker had turned twenty two just a week before he met Juan. Two weeks after meeting him, he moved into his own apartment for the first time. He invited Juan to be the first one to see it. Juan showed up at the door with a Japanese Peace Lily tucked under his arm._

_“What is that?” Fernando asked, smiling._

_Juan shifted nervously on his feet outside the door. “It’s a plant. My mama says plants are good to have in the house.” Juan blushed, embarrassed that he had mentioned his mother. He was so painfully young, he thought._

_Fernando noticed the redness in his cheeks and quickly spoke, hoping to make the boy feel better. “My mama says plants and flowers as gifts show that you care about someone,” he said. “Thank you, Juan.”_

_When Fernando reached out, Juan thought he was reaching for him, but Fernando took the plant and guided him into the apartment._

_“I do care about you,” Juan said quietly._

_Fernando had been working on falling in love with Juan. They’d spent every day of the past two weeks together in one way or another. He loved being with Juan. He was mature for his age, but still youthful and sweet._

Juan’s smile was so sweet as he pressed his lips to the cup, staring over at Fernando, longing to be kissing his soft, warm lips rather than the hard cup.

_Juan and Fernando’s first kiss was perfection. Juan had just turned eighteen and after celebrating with his family and Fernando, Fernando asked him to have an official date with him. Knowing that they could not be seen in public with each other, Fernando set up a dinner date at his apartment for the two of them. He prepared the only thing he really could, chicken paella, which luckily happened to be Juan’s favorite._

_After they ate, Fernando poured two glasses of red wine from a bottle that had been breathing while they ate, and the two moved into the living room. Fernando sat on the couch first, settled against the arm, and patted the cushion right next to him. Juan quickly settled in with his side pressed against Fernando. Fernando wrapped his arm around Juan’s shoulder. “How was dinner? I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday.” Fernando sipped his wine and awaited Juan’s reply._

_Despite coming from a Spanish family that drank wine with every meal, Juan had never had any himself. Eager to match Fernando, he took a sip. As soon as it hit his tongue, he grimaced._

_Fernando chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste,” he said, taking the glass from Juan and placing it on the glass-topped table in front of them. He left his with it. “I didn’t see you grimace at my paella, so I guess it was good.”_

_Juan was blushing. “I’m sorry about the wine,” he said, wiping his lips. “The paella was perfect. It always is.” Juan had eaten at Fernando’s place with a few other guys from the Spanish team and a couple of times alone, but this was their first real “date.” “This whole day has been perfect,” Juan said, leaning his head over on Fernando’s chest._

_Fernando played absently with Juan’s perfect short curls, building up the courage to ask if he could kiss him._

_He thought he’d found the courage when suddenly Juan pulled away from him. “Fernando…”_

_“Si?” Fernando said, slightly rattled._

_“Do you know what would really make my birthday the best?”_

_“What?” Fernando asked, caressing Juan’s cheek gently._

_Juan leaned up and pressed his lips gently to Fernando’s. Fernando immediately kissed back, gently at first, but then he intensified things, slipping his tongue into Juan’s mouth. Their tongues danced like pros. The kiss lasted nearly three full minutes and was still, six years later, the best kiss either of them had ever experienced._

 

Juan could not take his eyes off Fernando. Lights flashed around them from countless cameras, but he held tight to the beloved trophy and stares into the eyes of the man he loved so dearly.

_Juan had ached since the day they met for the day they would say “I love you” for the first time. He had been tempted to say it so many times before. He and Fernando were going on five months together as the football season was beginning._

_Juan had imagined a million ways Fernando might tell him he loved him, a million different places they’d be, sometimes even what they’d be wearing._

_The way it actually happened had not been one of those fantasies._

_Fernando had just lost a match against Real’s first team, not Juan’s reserve team and a couple of misses had everyone blaming him for their 4-0 defeat. He was left feeling gutted, to say the least. He went straight home after the match and took a long hot shower._

_When he emerged from the shower, Juan was sitting in the living room with two plates of paella and two glasses of wine (which he had now grown accustomed to) on the table in front of the couch._

_Juan stood up, prepared to speak, but Fernando rushed to him and hugged him tightly. He was too shocked to speak. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly. “I love you, Juan. I love you so much,” Fernando said as his hot tears spilled onto the shorter man’s shoulder._

_Juan fought to contain tears of his own as he replied, “I love you too, Fernando, so much.”_

Fernando pulled away from the cup before Juan, a wide grin on his face. He turned, for a moment, to one of the cameras snapping pictures of them, but then immediately looked back at Juan. Seeing his lips on the cup made him wish his lips were on his lips, his body, anywhere.

_Fernando waited almost an entire year to make love to Juan for the first time. He had been with other men before – the submissive like Atletico Madrid’s newcomer, Sergio Aguero and the dominant like Spain’s, Sergio Ramos, but he knew Juan had never been with anyone, man or woman._

_The two Spanish lovers had just spent their first Christmas and celebrated the coming of the New Year together. They were curled up in Fernando’s bed, their bed. They were living together, for all intents and purposes. Juan’s clothes had filled three drawers in Fernando’s six-drawer dresser and half his closet. He had no idea what Juan still had at his parent’s house. He couldn’t imagine there being much._

_They had spent countless nights in bed together, kissing…kissing everywhere, but never having sex, of any kind. Juan was not ready. He didn’t have to say it, Fernando could sense it, and he was fine with that. He would never push him. With Juan, he did not need sex. He fulfilled him in every way._

_“Te amo, Juan,” Fernando said, kissing his lips, the way he had done so many nights before. When he reached across to turn off the bedside lamp on Juan’s side, the way he always had, Juan grabbed him in the dark on his way back to his side of the bed. “Is something wrong?” Fernando asked._

_“I’m ready, Nando,” Juan said. He didn’t elaborate. He knew Fernando would know just what he meant._

_Fernando’s stomach flipped – he had never, in six years, forgotten that feeling. His spine tingled._

_“Fernando…” Juan said, afraid that maybe Fernando wouldn’t want him anymore. Maybe he had waited too long. Tears poked at his eyelids, but then he felt Fernando’s sweet, soft lips on his, brushing gently against his._

_“I love you, Juan,” Fernando whispered as he slowly moved on top of Juan._

_Juan’s heart skipped a beat and his throat felt like it might close, but he managed to whisper, “I love you too.”_

_Juan would never ever forget his first time with Fernando. It was painful, but Fernando took every care to comfort him, to ease the pain in any way possible and to prolong the pleasure, when it finally came, for as long as he possibly could._

_Fernando had been inside of men before, been inside of men when it was their first time even, but no one had been like Juan. No one felt like or sounded like Juan. His soft whimpers and moans, the way he panted when Fernando carefully thrust into him, the way he gasped Fernando’s name as he climaxed – no sounds had ever been sweeter._

_After a long, sensual shower, the lovers returned to bed and curled up with each other. “Was it worth waiting for me?” Juan whispered. His head was pressed against Fernando’s chest and his lips tickled his skin._

_“You’re worth everything, Juan. I would have waited forever for you.”_

“I thought that celebration was going to last forever,” Fernando said as he stumbled into the hotel room he shared with Juan. He had some champagne celebrating, but that wasn’t the cause for the stumbling. He was trying his hardest to disrobe. He wanted Juan. Bad. He could not be bothered to wait until he was even inside the hotel room.

“What do you expect? It’s the Champion’s League, Nando,” Juan said, laughing. He shut the door behind them.

“I expect you to be taking off your clothes,” Fernando said, arching an eyebrow at Juan. He was down to his shirt, boxers, and socks already.

“Maybe I don’t want to make love.”

Fernando stopped with his hands, curled around his boxer waistband, at his knees. He turned his head up to Juan. “You don’t?”

Juan laughed at the stricken look on Fernando’s face. “Of course, I do. I’m just not as impatient as you, Mi Amor.”

Fernando grinned and pushed his boxers to the floor. “Well, you better get ready. I _am_ impatient.”

Fernando grabbed Juan’s shirt and dragged him toward him. He kissed Juan will all the passion that had been building up inside him since the final ended.

When they were finally on the bed, Fernando on top, always, Juan looked up at him with pleading eyes and said, “Let’s make this last, mi amor. It’s the first time we get to celebrate a Champion’s League final together.”

Fernando thrust into him and said, “It might be the first, but it won’t be the last.”


End file.
